Chapter 194: The Restless Warriors
"Different 'Paths'?"
Ren Shiroki tilted his head, asking in a low voice: "You mean our training methods are different?"
"Not entirely. Besides our personal philosophies, it's more about the 'technical direction' itself."
Gaolang arched his distinct eyebrows, his expression remaining stoic. "When
talking about Thai combat arts, one cannot avoid Muay Thai. I have indeed
reached the depths of its cultivation."
"However, my goal was never the 'pinnacle' of Muay Thai itself."
Gaolang explained in a low tone: "In traditional Muay Thai, the importance of
boxing is extremely low. The reason is simple: in Muay Thai matches, punches
almost never score points."
"Furthermore, because the Thai clinch is so highly developed, a stance centered
on Western boxing is considered a disadvantage. As a result, Muay Thai
prioritizes elbow strikes, knee strikes, and roundhouse kicks. It is rare to
find a fighter who relies heavily on their fists."
Gaolang slowly clenched his hand.
"When I was five years old, I was scouted and groomed by His Majesty's
father—Rama XII. For the twenty years that followed, I practiced Muay Thai
relentlessly."
"Without realizing it, people began calling me the 'Strongest Muay Thai Fighter
in History.' But then, I noticed a problem—"
"The rules of Muay Thai underestimate the fist."
"In a sanctioned Muay Thai match, that's fine. But in a no-holds-barred real
battle... what then? I cannot allow myself to fail. I cannot allow myself to
lose."
"Therefore, to overcome this weakness, I transitioned to Boxing. I sought to
fuse the techniques of the two greatest 'striking arts' into one."
"Do you understand now, Ren?"
Gaolang lowered his fist and took a deep breath.
"What I specialize in is 'Striking,' not the arts of 'Boxing' or 'Muay Thai'
themselves. This was my personal choice—the style I believe suits me best."
"There may be Muay Thai masters out there who overcome the boxing weakness
within the 'realm of Muay Thai,' achieving a different kind of strength than
mine. That is likely the kind of person you are looking for."
"So, as a 'Striking Specialist,' I cannot give you a proper reference for the
'Realm of Muay Thai.'"
"..."
Ren Shiroki understood perfectly.
He remained seated in the lotus position. While observing Retsu Kaioh's lecture,
he rubbed his chin in deep thought. He could feel the "ink-wash" lines of combat
swirling around him.
Vaguely, the phantom of a certain "Emperor of Muay Thai" (Sagat) began to
radiate an unspeakable, intense battle aura within Ren's mind. The "Emperor" was
also curious to see what Ren's "Resolve" would look like.
After Retsu Kaioh finished his demonstration, it was Ren's turn to take the mat.
His sparring partner was Atsushi Suedo. The two traded several high-level
exchanges, providing a live clinic for the watching disciples.
By noon, the lecture paused. The disciples scattered for lunch while Katsumi
Orochi personally hosted the "Guest Instructors" and VIPS, providing them with a
private lounge for the midday break.
The afternoon consisted mainly of free-form training. Disciples were allowed to
exchange ideas and spar, making the time fly by. Before long, evening had
arrived.
The disciples departed one by one, looking satisfied and enlightened. The
Shinshinkai Dojo also featured a large bathhouse. After a refreshing soak, the
masters felt revitalized. Katsumi Orochi prepared tea and snacks.
The group sat on the floor in a spacious room, chatting cordially. Rama XIII sat
in a corner, leaning back and peacefully reflecting on the day's events.
"..."
Ren Shiroki, having nothing better to do, walked over to a heavy bag at the edge
of the mat. Referring to the "ink-wash" curves swirling in his mind, he began
practicing entry-level Muay Thai movements.
Gaolang watched for a few moments before his curiosity got the better of him. He
stood up and approached Ren.
"While my Muay Thai might not be the reference you seek, I can still give you a
few pointers on the 'Core Essentials.'"
Gaolang patted the heavy bag, pointing to several specific strike zones.
"Compared to other standing styles, Muay Thai has a very high 'sharpness.'
Consequently, training equipment wears out extremely fast."
"It is best to add an extra layer of protection to these areas. It will also
help you find the correct 'feel' for the impact faster."
"Also, watch your footwork. Pay attention to the rotation of your knee to
prevent twisting injuries..."
Gaolang spoke with incredible detail. Even though he was covering the basics,
his insights were never boring. Retsu Kaioh and Katsumi Orochi were soon drawn
in, leaning over to listen to the "God of War's" lecture.
Nearby, Rama XIII leaned against a cushion, smiling as he watched the warriors
converse.
"How beautiful."
Rama lightly brushed the floor with his hand. The wood wasn't polished to a
shine; instead, it was covered in countless scuffs, scratches, and patches where
it had been repaired.
"These are the marks left by the disciples of the Shinshinkai—the tracks left by
warriors chasing their dreams."
He looked at his bodyguards. "It looks like they'll be at it for a while longer.
Sit and rest. Don't stand on ceremony."
As the guards settled down, Rama let out a soft sigh of admiration.
"I am glad. Gaolang has finally met them... warriors who possess the same
'Restless Itch' as he does."
Hearing this, the guards looked at each other in confusion. "Is... is that so?"
Rama smiled. "What? You doubt me?"
An older, veteran guard cleared his throat. "Your Majesty, describing
Gaolang-sama as 'restless' or 'hungry'... we find it hard to imagine."
"Indeed. Gaolang-sama and the other three are all top-tier fighters with
extraordinary hearts. But at the same time, they are all masters of their craft
with incredible self-control."
The guard whispered his doubt. "They can endure inhumanly intense training.
Could they really fail to control their own fighting spirit?"
"..."
Rama XIII gave a faint, knowing laugh. "Your understanding is merely
surface-level."
The guard blinked.
Rama narrowed his eyes. "Whether it is Gaolang, the Fist Master, or the
Karateka—these transcendent individuals are not as you describe. The 'Killing
Instinct' dwelling in their hearts is not something easily suppressed."
"To put it simply, it is a 'Technical Itch' (Ji-yang)."
"What do warriors do when they are consumed by a profound, uncontrollable itch
for battle? Naturally... they seek out a worthy rival!"
Rama rested his chin on his palm. "That is why I was so happy to be invited to
this tournament. It gives Gaolang a 'Ring' where he can finally scratch that
itch."
The guards looked enlightened, nodding in agreement. However, Rama left a few
things unsaid.
Or rather, even if he said them, the "non-fighter" guards wouldn't fully grasp
it; it would only cause them unnecessary worry.
As Gaolang had noted, Rama could see it too—Ren Shiroki's "Path" was different.
From the perspective Rama had just described, Ren Shiroki—who had mastered a
vast array of fighting styles—was facing a "Technical Itch" that was likely
several times more intense than Gaolang's!
If he continued to refine his skills, that itch would only deepen until it
became impossible to suppress. How would Ren deal with it?
I once heard that even in this era, there are masters of 'Ancient Battlefield
Jujutsu' who continue to train in secret, mastering countless 'hidden'
techniques and knowledge...
Those who refuse to abandon any weapon, who constantly refine their technical
skills, and who study the martial way without end... the sheer volume of
techniques they master is almost tragic.
A man like that is likely the closest parallel to Ren Shiroki.
—However.
Rama's internal monologue shifted. It is too early to worry about such things.
There are still many powerful martial artists in Tokyo. Who knows? Perhaps
Gaolang will be the one to give him the answer he seeks. I have plenty of
confidence in him.
For now... I shall just patiently watch until the end.
"Everyone—!"
Rama checked his phone and raised a hand. "An old friend of mine recommended a
place. How about we order some high-end sushi for delivery tonight? My treat."
The group didn't turn down the offer, though Gaolang felt his King had been a
bit too generous lately.
"It's fine, it's fine! It's pocket change! Besides, it was recommended by
Metsudo Katahara himself. I simply must try it!" Rama waved his hand
dismissively.
Gaolang sighed and was about to call the others over when a sudden, heavy thud
echoed behind him.
THWACK!
The sound was one he knew all too well. It was the sound of a whip-like
roundhouse kick slamming into a heavy bag.
—And it was a Muay Thai Scan-Kick!
It wasn't just powerful; it was dripping with killing intent and already
possessed a hint of personal "understanding."
Gaolang turned around, his signature "dead-fish eyes" widening slightly as he
looked at Ren Shiroki, who had just delivered the kick.
Ren retracted his leg, his body bouncing with a light, agile rhythm. The mania
and joy in his eyes were impossible to miss.
"Nice. That was perfect!"
Ren turned his head and gestured to Gaolang. The God of War stood frozen for a
moment before slowly raising his hand, still in a daze from what he had just seen.
SMACK!
The two palms met, letting out a sharp, crisp clap.
"Haha! That was fun!"
Ren slung his right elbow over Retsu Kaioh's shoulder and patted Katsumi Orochi with his other hand, a wide grin on his face. "Come on! Let's go eat!"
(End of Chapter)
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